


Let Me Hear Your Voice

by FlirtyFroggy



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex, Porn with all the feelings, Unrepentant Fluff, dangerous driving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:13:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3200219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlirtyFroggy/pseuds/FlirtyFroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>All I want is your voice in my ear so I can pretend that it’s your hand stroking my cock. Is that really too much to ask?”</i><br/> <br/>Juan is horny; Fernando is a bit busy just now, thank you very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Hear Your Voice

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea whether Fernando still drives an Aston Martin, but for the sake of this fic, let's say that he does.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is not meant to imply anything about any actual people or their lives. It's just for fun.

An arm descended on Fernando’s shoulder as he finished buttoning up his shirt. “Well done today,” Diego said, nodding his head in the general direction of the training pitch. “More of that, please.” He grinned and ruffled Fernando’s hair as if he were still a seventeen year old kid instead of a thirty year old father of two, and headed towards his office.

Fernando wondered if the novelty would ever wear off, if he would ever stop being excited to be in this locker room, in this place. It hadn’t happened yet; he could still feel the same stupid smile tugging at his lips as he pulled on his jeans. It was like being a kid again, thrilled and awed just to be allowed here. Back then his excitement had been undercut by his nerves, by how simply overwhelming the whole thing was. Now, there were no nerves, almost no pressure even, despite what he knew was at stake. Now, there was nothing but a deep-seated contentment, a feeling that his body couldn’t contain all the joy in him. He could almost be glad Juan wasn’t here because if he had been Fernando thought he might actually explode. Almost. He slid his jacket on just as his phone rang. He smiled as he looked at the display. Somehow, Juan always managed to call him at just the right moment, as though he knew he was thinking about him. Or perhaps it was just that Fernando was always thinking about him, and so it was inevitable that Juan would ring when he was. 

“Hi,” he said into the phone, waving goodbye to Koke as he made his way out of the locker room.

“I miss you,” the oh so familiar voice came over the line. Fernando’s smile turned into a grin. He ducked his head as he weaved in and out of the stream of players, coaches and assorted other staff making their way to the car park.

“I miss you too,” he said as quietly as he could, though he still earned himself a look from Griezmann.

“Wanted to hear your voice,” Juan said, sounding a little breathless.

Against all laws of possibility, Fernando’s grin managed to grow wider. “Where are you? Are you running?”

“Nope. Not running.”

“Then why do you sound-” Fernando almost dropped the phone as realisation hit him. He recognised that catch in Juan’s voice, he knew it too well not to. He gripped the phone tighter. “Juan Manuel Mata Garcia, are you -” a cluster of physios standing near reception turned to stare at him and he lowered his voice again. “Are you… doing what I think you’re doing?” He shouldered open the door and hurried towards his car.

“Told you, I miss you.”

“Yes, but it’s only,” Fernando glanced at his watch, trying to work out the time difference between Madrid and Manchester, but his brain couldn’t focus on anything but the sudden, extremely vivid, image of Juan laid out on crisp sheets, his eyes closed and his head tipped back as he fisted his erection with one hand and teased lightly at his sac with the other. “It’s only early,” he finished weakly.

Juan gave a laugh that turned into a groan as Fernando fumbled with the keys to his Aston. “Sorry, is there some sort of schedule I’m not sticking to. Fuck.” Fernando finally got his car open and flung himself into the driver’s seat, slamming the door behind him. He took a deep breath and adjusted his increasingly uncomfortable underwear. “Talk to me, Fernando,” Juan said, his voice low and tempting and, fuck, really not helpful right now. “I called you for a reason, I want to hear you.”

“For fuck’s sake Juan, I am not wanking off in the Majadahonda car park.”

“What?”

“I. Am. Still. At. Training,” Fernando gritted out. There was a moment’s silence before Juan’s laughter erupted in his ear.

“Shit. Sorry, I thought you’d be done. You’re not - where exactly are you?”

“In my car. I was still in the locker room when you called.”

“Sorry.” He did not sound sorry at all. “You in that car though…” He trailed off into a series of moans.

“Once again, I am not wanking off in the Majadahonda car park.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the mental image.”

A knock at the window nearly sent Fernando through the very expensive roof. Gabi stood outside with Fernando’s wallet in his hand and a wry expression on his face. Fernando lowered the window, hoping he wasn’t blushing too badly. This was the second time in a week he’d forgotten something because he was too busy with his phone. “You left this in the locker room,” Gabi said, handing the wallet over. In Fernando’s ear, Juan was laughing again.

“Thanks. Sorry.”

“No problem. I’ll leave you to your conversation. Good work today,” he added and jogged off towards his own car. Fernando quickly closed the window.

“Almost caught by the captain,” Juan tutted.

“I wasn’t almost caught because I wasn’t doing anything.” 

“No you weren’t, were you. So I’d better go and deal with this by myself, since you refuse to be helpful.”

“What? I don’t think so. You can’t call and get me horny and then leave me to my own devices. You’ll just have to wait for me.”

“Wait for you?”

“Yes. I’ll call you when I get home.” Fernando was about to hang up when Juan’s voice stopped him.

“No way. You want me to wait for you, you’re staying on the line.”

“I have to drive, Juan.”

“So put me on speaker.” Fernando hesitated. This seemed like something that could go badly wrong, but he had been telling himself that since the first time he laid eyes on Juan and it had yet to stop him.

“Fine. But if I crash the car I’m blaming you. And when I say wait for me, I mean it. Your challenge, should you chose to accept it, is to not come before I do.” 

“Got to be honest with you, Nando, this whole conversation is helping me a great deal with that.” Fernando glared at his phone as he turned the speaker on, then tossed it into the passenger seat. The sound of Juan’s breathing filled the car. Fernando groaned as he pulled his seatbelt on and backed out of his parking space. “I wasn’t kidding, you know,” Juan said. “There’s something very appealing about the thought of you in that car, writhing against the leather, getting off right then and there because that’s just how badly you want me.” Juan was sounding breathless again and Fernando bit his lip as he nodded to the security guard at the gate. For once the gods were smiling on him and there were no fans waiting. He peeled away from the exit and sped down the road. “I’m quite offended you didn’t, actually. Don’t you want me, Fernando?”

Juan had a way of saying his name that had always had a strange effect on Fernando. It seemed to caress his skin, setting him tingling and buzzing. “You know I want you. You know I do.” He tried to keep his voice casual, but instead it came out filled with the particular blend of affection and lust that Juan inspired in him.

“Hmmm, funny way of showing it. All I want is your voice in my ear so I can pretend that it’s your hand stroking my cock. Is that really too much to ask?” Fernando attempted to negotiate a junction without causing an accident. He just about succeeded, though not without a few blaring horns.

“So,” he said, trying to pull his thoughts together. Dirty talk was a lot easier when you didn’t have to control a speeding death machine at the same time. He glanced at the speedometer and slowed down a little. “Stroking your cock?” He winced. Jesus Christ.

“Yeah,” Juan said, either not noticing or not caring about Fernando’s ineptitude. “I was watching a replay of your goals against Real and, fuck, you were so… so… I can’t remember the last time I saw you like that. So happy. You were so fucking beautiful and I thought… I thought, god,” he broke off with a gasp. The sound of skin on skin was clearly audible.

“Juan,” Fernando whispered, momentarily forgetting himself and drifting over into the wrong lane. He wrenched the steering wheel back. “Shit.”

“I wanted to be there so badly, Fer. I want to be there, with you. I thought, after that match, if I’d been with you. We’d have celebrated and you would have been - I wanted you to fuck me, I want that, it’s all I’ve been able to think about, you inside me.” He gave another, desperate, moan.

Fernando saw the red light just in time and slammed on the brakes. The phone shot off the passenger seat and clattered into the footwell. “Shit. Juan. Juan, you have to stop. I’m going to crash the car. You have to stop,” Fernando said, bending down to search for the phone while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the traffic lights and pressing his free hand against his aching erection, doing little to ease it.

“Sorry,” Juan panted. “God, sorry. Maybe you should call me back when you get home.” It would be the sensible thing to do. But Juan was far away and Fernando was so tired of him being far away and hearing his voice made him feel just a little closer. He found the phone and threw it back onto the passenger seat.

“No, it’s okay. Just, slow down, would you?” The lights changed and Fernando pulled jerkily away, his feet on the pedals not quite as co-ordinated as they could have been. “Besides, you’re meant to be waiting for me, remember? That didn’t sound like waiting.”

“I’m waiting, don’t worry. It’s no fun coming without you anyway.”

“How romantic.”

They continued in silence for a time as they both calmed themselves down. Fernando’s heart was racing and his hands shaking from the combination of his arousal and his almost-accident. He could hear Juan’s breath gradually leveling out, the occasional soft gasp the only sign that he was continuing to touch himself. Fernando forced himself to concentrate on the road and not on the images playing in his head. “Juanin,” he said when he thought he could trust himself not to drive into a tree.”What are you doing?”

“You know that thing you do where you run your nails over my thigh and get as close as you can to my cock without actually touching it?”

“Yeah.”

“That. I’m not as good at it as you but it still feels pretty good.” 

“Really?”

“I don’t have your self-control though, so my hand keeps straying just a little too… far.” Juan let out a little moan surely designed to go straight to Fernando’s cock.

“Behave yourself,” Fernando said, feeling his heart pick up again.

“You’re a fucking tease, Torres.”

“They’re your hands, I’m not controlling them.”

“You could be.” 

Fernando glanced around at his surroundings. Screw it. He was almost home; he could manage two minutes of this without killing anyone. “Okay. Stop what you’re doing.”

“What?”

“I said stop,” Fernando said with as much authority as he could muster, which wasn’t much under the circumstances.

“Okay. I’ve stopped. What do you want me to do?” There was a pause while Fernando gathered his thoughts. “Fernando. Tell me what you want.” There it was again, the way Juan’s voice wrapped itself around him like a physical thing. Fernando shivered and fought the urge to close his eyes. Almost home. He was almost there.

“Do you have any lube handy?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I want you to finger yourself for me.” There was silence, followed by rustling and a muttered curse. Another stretch of silence and then a soft cry that almost had Fernando veering across the road again. He could see the end of his driveway.

“Juan?”

“Fer, it feels - God.”

Fernando clipped the kerb as he took the corner far too fast, sped up his driveway and skidded to a halt outside his house. He fumbled with the seatbelt as Juan’s moans filled the car once more, and thumbed his jeans open. He really shouldn’t be doing this here but was too far gone to really care, and he didn’t think walking to the house would be possible anyway. He just prayed there were no paparazzi lurking in any of the trees. He slipped his hand inside his underwear and let out a guttural moan as he finally took hold of his cock.

“You still driving?” Juan’s voice sounded strained.

“No. Home.” Fernando’s eyes fluttered closed as he slowly started to pump his hand, the images he had been fighting off now playing freely in his mind; Juan on his back, legs parted, arching and moaning as he thrust his fingers into himself.

“Still in the car?”

“Yes. Don’t think I can make it to the house. That’s just how badly I want you,” Fernando said with a smile.

Juan’s answering laugh was choked off by another moan. “Christ, Nando, I miss you. I want you inside me, I need you.”

“I’m right here, baby, I’m right here. Can’t you feel me? I can feel you and, god, you feel so good.” And with his eyes closed and Juan’s voice surrounding him, Fernando could almost believe it; could feel the weight of him, the rasp of his stubble, his breath against his neck. He arched against the seat and thrust up into his hand as Juan’s cries grew more ragged. “So good, Juan, fuck. How does it feel? Talk to me, tell me.”

“I - I - fuck. Nando, it feels - I can’t, I can’t hold on, please Nando I’m so close.”

“It’s alright, let go. Come for me, I want to hear you, let me hear you.” Juan came with a incoherent cry that pushed Fernando right to the edge. He increased his pace, tightening his grip slightly in pursuit of his release but it was just, just out of reach.

“Fernando.” There it was. Fernando came with a loud groan, lights dancing behind his eyes as his whole body tensed and bowed. He breathed through his comedown, reluctant to open his eyes and be brought back to reality, enjoying the trembling afterglow to the accompaniment of Juan’s equally laboured breathing. 

He couldn’t sit there forever. As his heartrate returned to something approaching normal, he opened his eyes. He grimaced at the sticky mess he had made of his shirt and reached into the passenger seat. Turning the speaker off, he held the phone to his ear.

“I can’t believe you had a wank in your car,” Juan said, laughing and still a little breathless.

“Shut up, you made me.”

“Yes, I forced your hand.”

“Was that a pun? Mata, that’s terrible.” Juan giggled and Fernando felt that familiar ache in his chest. “I miss you so much,” he whispered.

“Nando, don’t,” Juan murmured.

“I’m so happy here, I really am, I’m so happy to be home. You know better than anyone how miserable I was at Chelsea but when I was there I was with you and -” Fernando closed his eyes and laid his head back with a sigh.

“I’m sorry I left,” Juan said for what had to be the hundredth time in the last year.

“Don’t be. It was best for both of us. You made it bearable for me and I think bearable was all I needed to convince myself I could tough it out and make it work. If you hadn’t left, I might not be at Atletico now. And I’m so glad to be here, and so sorry to be away from you, and both of those things consume me so much that sometimes I don’t know if I can handle it. It was almost easier those last six months at Chelsea. At least I knew how to feel.”

“You know how to feel now, Fer. You feel happy. You’re home, with thousands of people who love you a frankly ridiculous, embarrassing amount, almost as much as I do. You’re scoring goals and looking more like, well, you. You have a fantastic boyfriend with whom you can have amazing phone sex any time or place and who is coming to see you as soon as humanly possible so you can have amazing actual sex too. You’re happy, Fernando, and that’s okay. It’s okay to be happy without me because you’re never really without me, and because I’m happy for you.” 

Fernando bit his lip and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. “Juan, I, fuck, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Crumple into a ball of despair and self-doubt, probably,” Juan said cheerily, jolting a laugh out of Fernando.

“Probably,” he agreed. “Seriously, though, I don’t know what I’d do without you. And what about you? How are you?”

“Horny and missing you, I thought we’d already established this.”

“That wasn’t what I meant, Juanin.”

“I know what you meant. I just don’t want to talk about it. Not right now. I’d rather talk about how awesome you are and how lucky you are to have me.”

Fernando laughed. “Fine, fine. You’re not getting out of it though. You’re talking about it eventually.”

“Can’t wait. Oh, I almost forgot. Tell Ramos that if he even thinks about trying to maim you again he will have to deal with me.”

“First of all, he did not try to maim me. It was not that bad. Second of all, um, I really don’t think he’s that afraid of you. Sorry.”

“That’s why you need to explain to him, in small words, that behind this cute facade lurks a diabolical genius who will make his life a living hell.”

Fernando snickered. “Oh, that I think he’ll believe.”

“That’s because he’s not quite as dumb as he appears.” Juan couldn’t keep a straight face any longer, if he’d ever had one in the first place, and Fernando could hear him giggling again. “Really though, tell him hi from me.”

“Will do. You could just call and tell him that yourself of course.”

“I could, but any time I spend talking to Sergio is time I’m spending not talking to you, and that doesn’t seem like a very good deal to me.”

Fernando could feel that cheek-aching smile spreading across his face again. “Juan?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”


End file.
